Running From The Past
by MattHarrisFF
Summary: When the War ended Draco Malfoy was branded a war criminal for siding with the dark Lord Voldemort. He and his family fled, but there was only so far that they could run. Twenty years have passed and Draco is still running, still fighting for what he believes. That journey has taken him to Central City, where he works as a Metahuman Expert alongside the Potter-esque Barry Allen


_**Disclaimer: I'm neither the CW or JK Rowling, but I assure you if I were were a speedster or owned a 'true timeturner' or whatever that tripe from Cursed Child was, I would go back in time and write Harry potter and the flash first.**_

Running. He was always running. Running from his father when he did something wrong at the Manor as a child. Running from the bullies in primary school who didn't understand who his father was and the influence he held. Running from Potter when he was in Hogwarts. Now he was running from the Ministry, as far and as wide as he could, never looking back. Though he would never admit it, Draco Malfoy was a born coward. He'd as much as proved that when he had embraced Voldemort in a shaky hug in front of all of his classmates when Potter had been announced dead. Running, always running.

If he'd gone back in time to tell his younger self that his actions would lead him to working as a forensic scientist alongside an insufferable beanstalk of a man who's infuriatingly cocky smile was only second to Potters in the American Central City his younger self would have first asked what on Earth a Forensic Scientist was, and then he would have laughed in disbelief and cursed the older Draco to high heaven exclaiming he was an imposter. To think he had gone from being a family member of one of the most prominent blood purist families in Britain to helping Muggle… no… NoMaj's with their NoMaj problems. It was almost as sickening as looking back on the things he had done.

When the war had first come to a close Draco, his mother and his father had left Hogwarts as quickly as they could. Draco had clearly shown his allegiance, as had his father, and because of that the two were marked and not just by the now still enchanted ink on their arms. They were wanted men, confirmed to have been working alongside the Death Eater terrorist group. The dementors may have abandoned Azkaban, but that didn't mean there wasn't a cell waiting for him and his father. At least that would have been the best case scenario.

The Malfoy family had been on the run for one and a half months before the Aurors caught up with them. The trio had been flitting between muggle cities and towns, making ends meet where they could and then moving on. It had been their second night sleeping rough in Cardiff when they had heard the typical cracking of displaced air that signalled an apparition. They had tried to apparate themselves, but by the time they had gathered enough of their belongings the Aurors had placed up enough wards that such an escape had been impossible.

"Run Draco," his father had said, eyes boring into his with an intensity he had never seen before. "Take your mother and go, I'll hold them off for you."

"What do you mean hold them off? We're not leaving you," Draco had hissed back, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Lucius gave his son a fond smile, "I never told you how much I loved you. I always pushed you to be the best son you could possibly be… but I never let my emotion slip into it… I'm sorry for that."

"Da-"

"Imperio," the senior Malfoy cut off the younger. "Take your mother, Draco. Run as far away as you can. Don't stop for anything."

The imperious curse was strong, and no matter how hard Draco fought against it his mind drifted off into the serenity of acceptance and compliance.

"Lucius you cannot expect us-" Draco's mother began.

"Please, do not make me Imperio you as well," Lucius sighed, his voice tired. "I don't want to keep running like this, to keep living this way. Without me you and Draco have a better chance at life, it will be easier."

The tears of the two adults had been flowing strongly by this point and Draco, under the influence of the unforgivable curse, was already tugging at his mother's sleeve to get her moving.

"I love you Lucius Malfoy," Narcissa wept. "You can be stubborn and insufferable but I love you."

There was a bang nearby, the sound of running feet clad in heavy, spell resistant boots pounded the pavement. They were running out of time.

"and I you Narcissa, but you have to go."

Draco's mother gave and curt nod, grabbed her son's hand, and began to run. She would never see her husband again, the Aurors would likely kill him because of his resistance. A resistance designed to keep her and her son safe.

She saw the green flash behind them before she heard an Auror cry the words "Avada Kedavra" and heard her husband's final cry. The heart wrenching pain from her chest caused her to tumble to the ground, bringing Draco to his knees. The last surviving scion of Malfoy blinked fresh tears from his eyes, the effect of the Imperio clearing now the source of its magic had been severed.

"There they are!" Draco heard another Auror cry.

"The boy is holding his wand! Threat!" called out a third.

"Avada Kedavra," came the yell of the Auror who had slain his father, the piercing gaze of determination on the woman's face lit up by the deathly green glow of the killing curse. It was moving too fast. He was rooted to the floor, paralysed with fear.

Draco's more leapt up into the path of the spellfire, her mouth opened in a tortured scream as the light left her eyes. Draco did what had been asked of him, what had been programmed into him all his life. Draco ran.

He shook his head. It wouldn't do to be worrying about memories like that, not since three years had passed. He was safe in central city, the Aurors and Potter couldn't track him here. Though he despised the meta-humans, their very existence was proof that Muggles were capable of equal if not more power than a pureblood wizard like him, he owed them his safety. The radioactive signature that was given off by the Star Labs explosion before he had arrived was just enough to mask his own magical signature. He was learning more every day, signatures even though he didn't understand the muggle sciences completely he knew enough to know he was safe.

Draco suppressed a snort of laughter. Muggles, they had come so far and the wizarding world of Britain had no idea. He'd spent all that time thinking that The Dark Lord hated them for the impurity in their blood, but that couldn't have been it because Voldemort was nothing more than a half-blood himself. No, Draco knew why Voldemort had planned to wipe out the Muggle population. They were too dangerous. If you listened to the Muggle Studies lectures at Hogwarts you'd be led to believe that the majority of Muggles were still in the stone age, pottering around with horse and carriage, but Voldemort had obviously seen the truth of the matter. With their guns and bombs and missiles and nuclear weapons that could obliterate entire cities in one swoop. They could end the world in an instant and no one would be prepared to stop it. From his early research into the field of physics he'd learnt that if a wizard tried to block the blast of a nuclear weapon the energy would feed directly into the wizard's wand, and burn them out from the inside, turning them and their wand into ash instantly. How were they meant to keep up with power like that? Voldemort had been scared of Muggles, and Draco could see why. There was untempered power within them.

That was why his first port of call had been to forge some documents and move to the country with the biggest muggle military on the face of the planet. Draco was a logical man at heart, and although his mind had been largely swayed by the ideals of Voldemort he was still a Slitherin and that meant he was still cunning and deviously intelligent. Voldemort had failed in an all out war against Muggle kind, Grindlewald had failed in turning magical culture against Muggle culture, so if Draco were to overcome those failures he would have to do something that his younger self would have believed abhorrent- he would have to live among them. Not forever, for a short while, until he understood what really made muggles tick.

 _ **An2: So this was just the beginning chapter, little intro into Draco, what happened after the war in my personal canon, and his journey to America. This fic will have Draco undergo a redemption arc, Barry find out about his powers, eventual BarryxDraco, if I don't end up bringing Supergirl in and having some SuperFlash, which I love. If I do that It's going to likely be DracoxOC, but that's a while off. The conclusion will be a battle long coming, and a sacrafice. I can't promise regular updates, just like on my other stories, because of uni and work!**_


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